The bell rings and I look up just as our long-lost artist, Jay, walks into the shop. It’s been over two months since I’ve seen him, and he looks thinner, his long, sandy brown hair messier, and his thin face even more peaked than usual. He’s wearing a beaded hemp shirt, torn jeans, and a pair of flip-flops. So not Redemption style.
He gives us a sheepish smile and shrugs. “Hey.”
Slim and I share a glance. Then Slim folds his arms and leans back in Rose’s chair. “Hey? You leave us to the mercy of a vicious street gang and over two months later you walk in and all you can say is ‘hey’?”
“Yeah.” Jay scratches his head. “I heard they shot up the shop. Sucks. But I had to get them off my back, so I told them I lived in the apartment above it.”
Slim grits his teeth. “Sucks indeed. What are you doing here?”
Jay stuffs his hands in his pockets. “Saw the sign on the door of your old place that you’d moved here. Since I never really quit…just took a bit of a break, I thought I’d…um…just get to work.”
Duncan gives a snort and Christos mumbles, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
Jay’s mouth gapes, and he looks at Slim. “If that’s…okay.”
“Don’t ask me. Ask the boss.” Slim points to me.
I look at him aghast. “I’m not the boss.”
“Are you seriously going to turn down Torment’s offer?” Slim says. “You’ve got what it takes to run this place. Everyone likes you. They respect you. You’re a talented artist. And you have a way with people that puts them at ease. Wasn’t that your dream?”
“I had a lot of dreams.”
He lifts an eyebrow. “So melodramatic. Redemption is full of dreams just waiting for you to grab them, and they don’t all look like a rough fighter who would move heaven and earth to have you.” He gestures to Jay and then winks at me. “Come on, Boss. At the very least, make my dream come true.”
My lips twitch, and then I scowl at Jay. “You’re fucking fired.”
* * *
Priority: Confidential
Bay Area Underground Fight Club (BUFC) Fight Night
Underground parking lot. 543 Marine Drive. 8 p.m.
Headlining: Fuzzy vs. Devastation
Also on the card: Petis Pois, Jackhammer Jones
Code Word: Cataclysm
“Are you going to the fight?” Jess’s nose wrinkles when the waitress serves my double cheeseburger tofu deluxe. We’ve found a new place for lunch only four blocks from Redemption. The Kosher Vegan Steak House boasts that even a meat lover won’t be able to tell the difference between their tofu burgers and the real McCoy, so I’m putting their claim to the test. So far, so bad.
“No.”
“Not even to see Tag?” Her voice rises in pitch, and I sense a guilt trip of epic proportions coming on. “He’s your brother. And look what happened the last time he fought. He needs our support.”
Nausea roils in my belly as I contemplate the food in front of me. This was a bad idea. I won’t be able to keep it down. And only this morning did I figure out why.
“I thought you were done with him. Again. Why don’t you go out with Rampage? He’s funny, nice, loves to gossip, but has good alpha, protective instincts. He’s also cute, has a good sense of humor, and can leap tall buildings in a single bound.”
Jess sighs. “I can’t go out with Rampage. He’s a friend. Plus, my dentist’s third cousin’s sister’s husband’s brother just broke up with his girlfriend. My dentist thought we’d be perfect for each other. I told her to go ahead and set up a blind date.”
“You look thrilled.”
She toys with her spoon. “How is Tag, by the way?”
“Tag never talks to me.” I push the burger toward Jess and lean back in my seat. “He’s totally consumed by this case he’s been working on. I thought it was bad before I was in the hospital, but now it’s ten times worse. He calls every few days, asks if I’m okay. I say yes. He says ‘good’ and hangs up. He doesn’t even come for Sunday dinner.”
“Are you going to eat that?” She points to the burger and I shake my head.
“I haven’t been able to eat anything except bread and crackers.”
Jess’s eyes narrow. “Not even potato chips?”
Emotion wells up in my chest. “Oh, Jess.” I reach into my purse and pull out the plastic bag with the pregnancy test I took this morning and shove it across the table. “I missed two pills and then I was in the hospital for the next few days and totally forgot.”
She stares at the little pink cross and then slaps her hand over her mouth. “Oh my God. What are you going to do?”
“I want this baby like I’ve never wanted anything before,” I say, my voice hoarse. “Twice in my life I thought I was going to die, and this was something that would never happen. This baby is a gift I never thought I’d have.”
Her eyes tear, and she reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. “I’ll be with you all the way. You’re like a sister to me and I’m going to be the best auntie ever. And you know your parents and Tag will be thrilled. But are you going to tell Ray?”
“I don’t know.” I crumple my napkin in my lap. “He doesn’t want to be with me, Jess. He thinks he destroys everything he loves and he thinks he failed me and that I’m safer without him because of what he does and who he is. And he’s right. I couldn’t go through that again. How do I know someone else from his past isn’t going to pop up and try to kill me? He couldn’t keep me safe. And he never told me the truth about who he is. I didn’t even know his last name.”
Jess purses her lips and huffs out a breath. “You’re my best friend and I love you like a sister, but you’re being crazy. You love him. He loves you. You’re having a baby together. Yes, he’s got a dangerous job. But so do a lot of guys. And of course you don’t want to go through that shit again. But guess what. You did go through it. Not once but twice. And you survived. You’re a survivor, not a victim. I watched you go through it before, and I’m watching you go through it now, and there’s a huge difference. And do you know why?”
Shocked by her impassioned speech, I just shake my head.
“The difference is that this time you had justice. You had closure. It was all there, out in the open for everyone to see. It wasn’t buried in the shadows, eating away at your soul.”
“You sure you’re just a vet’s assistant,” I say, “and not a psychologist in disguise?”
Jess just laughs. “I’m a best friend and I’m still in love with your brother and I hope one day I’ll be Auntie Jess for real.”
* * *
“Look at this place.” Jess grabs my arm as we push our way through the crowd in the underground parking lot of a derelict apartment building on Marine Drive. “I’ve never seen a BUFC so busy. Who is Devastation? He’s a real crowd-puller. Look! Even Torment is here.”
“That’s not a good sign.”
When I spot Amanda and Shayla in the crowd, I grab Jess’s hand and drag her toward them. “What’s going on?”
“Devastation broke his wrist,” Shayla says. “The organizers asked Fuzz if there was anyone else he wanted to fight, and he named the Predator.”
I look at her aghast. “He can’t fight the Predator. He’ll be slaughtered.”
“The Predator accepted the fight.” Amanda stands on her tiptoes and waves Jake over. “He’s been moping around my office for the last few weeks, so when he said he had a fight tonight, I was happy he would have something to pull him out of his funk. But when I found out he was going to fight Fuzzy, I tried to convince him to drop out, but he wouldn’t do it.”
“Can’t Torment stop it?” Jess, still in total awe and fear of Torment, breathes out a sigh as he cuts a path through the crowd with the ferocity of his stare.
Shayla shakes her head. “Underground has its own rules. Only thing Torment can do is threaten to ban the fighters from training at Redemption if they decide to participate.”
“I think that’s hi
s plan,” Jake says, coming up behind Amanda. “He’s worried about Fuzz. We all are. He’s just not been himself lately.” He looks at me. “Do you know what’s wrong?”
“He won’t talk to me.” I drop my voice so only Jake can hear. “Redemption is the only thing in his life outside of work that keeps him going. If Torment bans him, I don’t know what he’ll do.”
“If he steps into that ring with the Predator, there won’t be much he can do.” Jake’s voice tightens and then drops low. “Ray’s wound up like I’ve never seen him before. I don’t think he’ll be able to pull back.”
A whistle blows and the crowd gathers around the makeshift ring in the center of the parking lot. The air is thick with the scent of gasoline and cigarette smoke. Floodlights have been set up around the perimeter, but there is nothing on the ground to cushion a landing if the fighter falls hard. Already the organizers have had to drive three fighters to the hospital. I hope they won’t be driving any more.
Tag steps into the ring wearing a pair of red fight shorts. I am momentarily stunned by how lean he is. Although not fat, Tag has always been solid. But he’s not solid anymore. Although his muscles are well-defined, his skin doesn’t seem to sit right on him, and he looks gaunt and pale. He’s not my Tag anymore.
A murmur in the crowd heralds the Predator’s arrival and I hold my breath waiting for my first glimpse of him as he climbs into the ring. Over the last few weeks, I have imagined every inch of him, touched every part of his body, held him in my arms. But when he steps into the ring, he takes my breath away. He’s even more beautiful than I remembered. Emotion wells up in my throat. I miss him so much I ache inside.
The ref stands between them and holds up a red flag, but before it drops, Ray holds up his hands and gestures Tag to the side of the ring. I push through the crowd until I’m close enough to hear but behind Ray’s back, unable to be seen.
“I’m not gonna fight you, Fuzz,” Ray says, keeping his voice low. “I’m here so you wouldn’t fight anyone else.”
Tag startles and then growls. “You aren’t getting out of this fight. No one leaves the ring unless they tap out or can’t tap out.” His voice rises to a shout. “You almost got Sia killed. I trusted you to protect her. I gave her to you, and you let us both down. You hurt her, betrayed her, and lied to her. You broke her, and I’m gonna make you pay. For once in her life, she deserves real justice.”
A sob rips from my throat. “Tag. Please. Don’t do this.”
Ray spins and sees me. His jaw tightens and his eyes turn to ice, sending daggers through my heart.
If Tag heard me, he doesn’t acknowledge my plea. He and Ray join the referee in the center of the ring, and the moment the flag drops, Tag charges and hits Ray with a right uppercut. Ray’s head snaps to the side, but he does nothing to defend himself. Tag hits him again in the face and then in the chest, his punches hard and fast—relentless.
“Tag.” I am at the ropes now, so close I can hear the smack of flesh on flesh, hear Ray groan. But my scream is swallowed by the cheering crowd.
“Fight, dammit,” Tag bellows, and knees Ray in the stomach. “Why won’t you fight?”
“Because it will kill Sia if I do,” Ray mutters.
Tag backs off, panting, and snorts a laugh. “You couldn’t possibly hurt her any more than you already did.”
Ray wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, and it comes away covered in blood. “I was trying to protect her.”
A fight official clamps a hand on my shoulder and tries to pull me away, but I won’t let go of the ropes. Even if they won’t stop, I can’t leave them like this.
With a howl, Tag launches himself again at Ray, this time sweeping his leg. Ray goes down. On purpose. I know this because I’ve seen him defend this move a hundred times. If he doesn’t want to go down, he won’t.
The moment his back hits the concrete, Tag is on him, pummeling him with elbows and punches. The crowd goes quiet. There is no sport in beating a man who is down, especially when he’s made it clear he won’t defend himself.
“Enough, Tag. He’s down.” I slide a leg through the ropes, but one of the fight officials pulls me back.
“Rules say no one goes in and no one goes out until someone yields.”
“You don’t understand.” I pull at the official’s blue shirt. “He won’t yield. That’s not who he is.”
“Nothing I can do.”
“Fuck you.” I shove him aside and step into the ring.
“Tag. Stop. Please. You’re going to kill him.” But Tag doesn’t stop. He sees me, but he doesn’t. Eyes glazed with bloodlust, he swings his arm back and pushes me away.
I stagger and hit a massive chest. “It’s okay,” Torment says. “I got this.”
The crowd boos. The fight officials holler. But Torment stalks across the ring, grabs Tag from behind, and rips him away. The fight zone descends into chaos. People shout and curse. Rampage joins Torment, and they drag Tag away. I run over to Ray. He has pulled himself to sitting and is leaning against one of the pillars. His face is cut and one eye is swollen shut.
“Oh God. Ray? Are you okay?” I kneel beside him, running my hands over his body, checking for breaks.
“I’m fine. Just go.”
“You’re not fine. Look at you. I’ll take you to the hospital.”
“Go, Sia. Please.”
He winces when I touch his forearm, and I suck in a breath. “At least let me get the medic.”
Drawing in a deep breath, he shouts, “Sia. Go.”
His words echo through the parking lot, stilling the crowd. Shaking, I push myself to my feet and take one step back and then another.
“Okay,” I whisper. “I’m gone.”
Chapter 27
Don’t go
Sunday morning after the fight, I go to Tag’s apartment, determined to find out what the hell has been going on with him. I push the buzzer. No answer. I call and text his cell. No answer. I go around the back and find his car parked in its spot. Then I return to the front and hang around until one of the tenants who knows me lets me in.
Minutes later, I’m banging on Tag’s door. I shout and holler that I’ll keep it up and disturb his neighbors until he lets me in. Tag has been brought up too well to allow me to disturb the neighbors. It only takes a few minutes before he opens the door.
Before he can protest, I push my way inside. Then I freeze. Usually highly organized and meticulously clean, Tag’s apartment looks like a hurricane just blew through. His clothes are everywhere. Papers, books, and old CDs are strewn across every surface. But it isn’t the mess that makes me gasp and step back, but the photos pinned to every wall.
Women. Young. Sixteen, maybe eighteen. Their faces and bodies battered and bruised.
“I didn’t want you to see this,” he says, his voice flat. “I didn’t want you to know about it, especially now.”
“Who are they? What happened to them?”
Tag sits heavily on his couch. He’s wearing a pair of pajama pants and a T-shirt, a pen stuck behind his ear. His right hand is bandaged over his knuckles—knuckles that hit my Ray.
“The same thing that happened to you.” He twists his hands in his lap, then meets my gaze. “By the same man.”
My stomach clenches and my mouth goes dry. “Luke? He raped all those women?”
“I’m pretty sure it was him. Some were before you and some after.”
I sink down onto his paper-strewn couch. “How did you get involved?”
Tag rubs his hands down his thighs, just like our father does when he’s stressed. “The night you met Ray, I was assigned a new case. The victim was an eighteen-year-old student he’d met at a bar—he’d drugged her drink, but she was so drunk she threw it up when she went to the bathroom and he didn’t know. She remembered most of the details but not his name, and filed a police report. At first I didn’t know it was him. But then she started getting the threats…”
He rubs his thighs harder now and star
es at the floor. “God, Sia. It was so hard to watch. I knew exactly what she was going through. So many times I wanted to talk to you about it, but I didn’t want to put you through it all again. It took a long time to trace the threats, but when we did and I realized it was him, it was worse than I imagined. Our local DA said there wasn’t enough evidence to run the case without a witness, and the girl changed her mind and refused to testify. Not only that, but at the time of the incident, he was out on bail after being arrested last year on a similar case in a different jurisdiction.”
“Oh God.”
“I’ve been working to help build a case against him. I reopened old cases where he was named as a suspect. I visited the victims and begged them to tell their stories. No one would. Some were too afraid. Some had moved on. Some had been threatened. Even when I told them just one victim testifying could make the difference, they wouldn’t do it. And I didn’t blame them. I understood. But I became totally obsessed. Even though Ray went after him and did what I’d always wanted to do, I wanted real justice. I wanted him behind bars. I told Ray to make sure he left him alive, so I could put him away.”
Tag sighs and shoves a pile of paper aside to sit beside me. “I finally found someone who would testify and his trial is scheduled to start next week. But a few days ago, she backed out. We’ve built a good case on circumstantial evidence, but the DA is reluctant to proceed without a witness. When I found out he might walk, I just lost it.”
My heart aches for Tag. He is everything that is honorable and good about the system, and I’ve asked him to carry this burden far too long. It has weighed us down, held us back, prevented us from being who we are meant to be. We have waited a long time for the justice he craves, the justice that will set us free. I reach out and squeeze his hand.
“One victim or one survivor?”
Tag’s face crumples. “You were always a survivor, but you don’t have to do this. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to be involved. I don’t want you to have to relive it again or be ripped apart by the defense team. If they let him go, I’ll find another way.”
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